Winter Run
by KoinuAiChii
Summary: Lately, Ivan has been acting a little strange, almost distant and confused. Toris has been working on another way to get out of the house and away from Ivan. Once the Russian figures out Toris' little plan, odd things start to happen to the others...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I know the chapters are short, but I will try to make them longer later on. Honest. Also please be gentle, this is my first time writing any of these characters and the first on-going story I've done in a very long time. I do not own these characters or claim to. Please enjoy.

Ivan sat silently on the side of the bed, staring down at the individual grains that were mixed into the wood flooring. The light was barely starting to peek in from the windows, causing lines to run along the opposite wall and the side of the Russian's face. He blinked slowly and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, then stood and pulled the curtains to the side, wincing once the snow-reflected light made its way to his eyes. It had snowed overnight, not a blanket of snow, but an avalanche. Ivan sighed and let the curtains fall back into place before he took a few steps over to his closet, took out a thickly woven sweater, and pulled it over his head. He turned the metal knob on the door, which made a squeak upon opening, and walked down the hallway, looking in each door as he passed.

The first door he came across was an empty and forgotten spare bedroom which used to belong to his elder sister. He made a face as he stared quietly inside and studied the walls that were now old and dusty. There was one picture left—a small drawing done in crayon that she had done a long time before. It was of himself and his two sisters, though his elder sister's face had been scribbled over by a black marker and the bottom ripped from Natasha in a jealous rage. Ivan only sighed and began to walk down the hall again.

The second door was cracked slightly, only a pale beam of light escaping it. Ivan peered in only to see Eduard, as usual, on his computer. Grinning, he poked his head in and called out a good-morning greeting. The Estonian jumped and gripped onto the table before turning around, a look of sheer terror on his face. "G-good morning to you too, Sir…" He said, his voice shaking. The Russian only smiled and popped back out again. Eduard sighed and slumped back down in his chair, trembling, wishing that the other would at least knock before entering.

Ivan wandered down the hallway yet again before he ended passing one door completely and ending up at the last. He put his ear to the door to listen for any sound of life inside, but when he heard nothing, he opened the door and looked inside. Raivis was curled into a ball underneath the blankets of his bed, shaking. "What's the matter, my little friend? Are you cold?" Ivan said, nearly smiling. He knew good and well that he terrified the young boy, but even though he knew this, he never stopped. The small boy trembled harder and pulled the blankets over his head. "Would you like something to drink? Or perhaps eat? Maybe that would warm you up, yes?" When he didn't get an answer the second time, he frowned and stepped loudly over to the bed, gripping the blanket tightly in his hand before tearing it away. The small boy squeaked and hid his head underneath his arms defensively. Ivan somehow felt giddy again, reaching out and taking one of Raivis' arms and pulling it away. "When I ask you a question, you should answer me, yes?"

"Y-y-yes, sir!" The young boy squeaked, not even fighting back against the giant Russian. He felt his wrist slowly begin to sting, though the feeling got worse and worse the more Ivan began to crush down on him. "I-I'm sorry! I promise I'll answer next time! Honest!" Grinning in delight, Ivan released his wrist and loomed over the poor boy.

"That's a good little Latvia. Next time, I won't be as gentle." Ivan giggled to himself childishly and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Raivis shook terribly, having no control of it now. He stared down at his wrist through teary eyes and watched as it began to swell and bruise. Ivan was right, next time he wouldn't be so gentle.

The last door, the one he had skipped, came next. Ivan knocked lightly when he saw a faint light coming in through the bottom of the door. There was a shocked gasp, but then a shaky voice answered him. "One moment, please!" However, Ivan didn't listen and opened the door up and stepped inside. Toris had been studying something and taking notes, but now all of the papers were shoved into the desk drawer and a book had been knocked over in the commotion. The Lithuanian struggled to pick up his mess and was now on his hands and knees picking up scraps of paper and sweeping up little pieces of wood shavings from his pencil. Ivan walked over and stopped right in front of him, staring down with a childish smile. "O-oh, Mr. Braginski… I didn't see you come in. I'm sorry for the mess; you startled me, is all."

"Do not apologize. This is your own room, not mine." Ivan watched as Toris stood, his hands trembling. "What is wrong? It seems like you're scared… Are you hiding something from me?" The Russian leaned closer and inspected his hands and notes in his arms. Toris pulled back quickly, but stopped himself before he fell over the step-stool that had fallen behind him. Ivan tilted his head. "If you are hiding something, it would be the best to show me now instead of hiding it for me to find later. Your punishment would be greater, that way." He paused with a childishly menacing grin. "Unless you'd like for me to make it greater, that is."

"N-no, sir… I-I was just studying a particular subject is all, and you startled me… I didn't want you to see what it was because…" He trailed off, looking to the side in a panic. "Because it's a surprise… For your birthday!" Toris shook nearly violently on the inside, but it was barely noticeable on the outside. It was clearly a lie, however, seeing as the Russian's birthday had already passed two months back.

"You're lying." Said Ivan, his grin fading. Toris started to shake on the outside now, taking another step back, getting closer to the step-stool. "I asked you nicely, Toris. But now you're lying to me…" The Russian took a few steps closer, looming over the small figure in front of him, his arm slinging forward, his hand hitting the other's face with a great force. Toris fell backwards and limply onto the floor, his papers scattering all over the ground. "I thought I could trust you, Liet."

Toris could feel nothing for a moment, but as soon as the shock had subsided, a sharp pain made itself known in his neck and back. He was still frozen, his eyes widening with shock. Ivan loomed over him with a blank face, a shadow covering his eyes, his head tilted downwards. The Russian had a paper gripped tightly in his right hand, slowly bringing it up to study it, pulling it tightly on each side to deduce the size of the folds made in the paper. Ivan's eyes ran across each sentence, each word, translating it as well as he could into his own language to better understand it. Slowly, his eyes narrowed and his expression began to darken. "M-mis-mister… B-Bragins—"

Toris grew silent, terror spreading even further throughout his body when he had noticed that the paper the other had was one of the main notes he had taken and had been guarding earlier. He felt his heart sink, his stomach turn, his pulse slow and begin to quicken… Never before had he gotten caught while taking these notes, but now he feared for the worst. Ivan promptly began to rip the paper into shreds, making sure each piece was unreadable, and threw them at the Lithuanian, a rain of confetti showering over the other's green sweater and getting stuck in his hair. "So, you've decided to leave, I see. This is what you've been planning." Ivan stepped closer and leaned down, his face merely inches away from the others'. "I've noticed you planning something for a while now, but I never really thought that it could be something like this." Toris stared into his eyes, his own starting to water, his body starting to shake. It almost seemed like he was staring into deep caverns… Though, it was also like they were staring through him. Piercing through his soul…

His thoughts were stopped nearly instantly when the Russian stood quickly, glaring intently. Ivan looked away, his back turning on the smaller man. "If that's how this is, I'll make sure you realize how much pain you've caused. No one escapes the house of the Soviet Union." Toris watched as Ivan left, slamming the door behind him. He could finally feel his arms and legs again, taking great effort to roll off of the step-stool he had fallen on. It was broken and a wooden leg from the stool had scraped into his back. Slowly, he crawled over to his desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a medicine box…


	2. Chapter 2

Ivan closed the door behind him, his face emotionless. He could hear the Lithuanian crawling across the room behind him, his back pressed against the door. Ivan then began to walk away, down the long halls of the old house. Reaching the stairs, he descended slowly, stopping to look at each picture hanging on the wall on the way. Each picture was fairly old, in black and white, or half crumbling. The frames had old designs carved into them, none of them matching the others. A few were cracked, and a few were very dusty, though none of them were out of place.

Ivan reached the bottom and stopped, turning his head to look at the small frame that sat on a side-table that was tightly up against the wall. He smiled lightly and reached over with the side of his sleeve curled around his thumb and wiped away a layer of dust off of the glass. It was a picture of a younger Ivan standing in front of a field of sunflowers. The layer of dust that had been wiped away created a clear line across his face and the flower that he had tightly in his arms. His grin faded when he got a flash in his memory, causing him to grip tightly to his head and wince.

Lately, he had been having flashbacks to his past. However, nearly all of them had been of horrible tragedies that had happened while he was only a small child. He had been fine only a week ago, but now he had started snapping at every little thing and had sworn he had seen things that weren't really there. Ivan was becoming more and more hostile, his moods jumping more than usual.

After hearing the commotion down stairs, a frightened Eduard ran down quickly, only to nearly crash into the taller man. "W-what's wrong! Are you okay, Mr. Braginski?" Eduard hesitantly placed his hand on the other's shoulder. Ivan quickly spun around and slapped his hand away, a look of hatred and pain on his face.

"Go away! Don't touch me!" The taller man turned and ran around the corner, leaving the Estonian on the bottom stair, looking blank and terrified.

Ivan came to a stop in the other room, falling to his knees and catching himself with his hands hitting the ground roughly. Thoughts were running through his head at high speeds, his body was shaking, and he couldn't catch his breath. The memories were starting to get worse and sometimes twisted to the point he couldn't tell what they were. Minutes passed as he sat there on the floor, shaking, his eyes closed tightly, and his hands clenched onto his head. Finally, it seems as though the room got lighter and the memories faded away, like a blanket had been removed from his vision. Ivan sat back on his feet and stared blankly across the room.

"I'm hungry…" Said Ivan, placing his hand on his stomach and frowning just in time to feel a rumble escape. He stood and walked into the other room, noticing that the light had faded outside. The Russian pulled the curtains aside again and looked out a large double window, staring up into the sky. "Snow…" His purple eyes were now downcast, staring at the already thick layer on the ground. "Or perhaps rain… Maybe it will rain instead." He stared out blankly for another few minutes.

Toris had made his way down from his room and had started to clean after checking on the others. Raivis was still terrified, although now he was curled into a corner reading a book. Eduard had given up on asking any questions and went to lie down for a nap. The Lithuanian was now at the end of one of the long hallways on the third floor of the house, brushing away dust that had accumulated on an old picture frame. Toris frowned when he realized he had knocked it off center and straightened it, a small smile forming on his face at the sight of cleanliness. He turned to go down stairs when he realized that there was a door which was barely open at the other end of the hallway. Arching an eyebrow, he made his way to the other end, stumbling along the way. Once he reached the door, he looked in and stared in shock. He had never seen this room before out of all the years he had lived there. "Wait, what is this…?"

In the room, there was a small cot set up and blankets strewn across the floor. There were various pieces of paper lying around the cot and the window, most of which were scribbled on with markers and black marks. There were signs of struggle, but nothing was broken except for a lamp in the corner, the lampshade torn into bits around the edges and sliced through the middle. Toris walked in and looked around, immediately feeling sick. He pulled his sleeve up to his face and squinted, starting to choke and cough. He couldn't tell what it was, but something in the air was making him sick. When he began to leave the room, he noticed a small rag on the floor… No, a ribbon. It was torn and battered, but he picked it up and looked it over.

He stood for a few more seconds before realizing that his skin was tingling and ran out of the room, closing the door tightly behind him. Coughing, he began to go downstairs to get a drink of water. He could see spots floating in the air now, all in multicolor orbs. He made his way to the bottom and paused, seeing Ivan staring out the window. "Mr. Braginski?" The Russian jumped and looked over, completely confused. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I am fine…" Ivan turned and looked him over. "What do you have there in your hand?" Toris jumped and looked down, turning the ribbon over and examining it again.

"Oh, this? I… Found a room upstairs… And I went in to see what it was, and I found this ribbon." Ivan's eyes widened and he pulled it out of the Lithuanian's hands. Toris jumped back and started to shake.

"This… This is… What are you doing with this! You're going to get poisoned! Never go into that room again, understood?" The Russian was practically yelling at him, stuffing the ribbon into his own pocket. "Do you even know what this is from? How long did you stay in that room!"

"I-I… I was only in there for a few minutes! I swear I didn't touch anything! Honest! I'm sorry, Mr. Braginski but I—" He was cut off once the other glared at him with narrow eyes.

"Any longer in there and you could have died. What happened in there is something horrible… It affected Elder Sister and Natasha…" He reached into his pocket again and pulled the ribbon out. "Do you see this? It was beautiful and clean the day they left that room. Now it's rotting. It's turning back into dust. This is what happens with those massive amounts of radiation." Toris' eyes widened.

"Mr. Braginski… Do you… See spots from it?"

"From what?"

"R-radiation…" Toris was nervous, his hands shaking.

"In some cases, yes. Why, are you seeing them?" Ivan leaned closer, staring at his eyes.

"I-I was just wondering…" Toris pulled away and began to walk off. Ivan placed his hand on his shoulder and spoke strictly.

"Don't lie to me, Liet. Tell me the truth."

"I-I… I'm fine!" Toris broke free and ran back upstairs. "I'll be fine! Don't worry about me." The boor to the bathroom slammed behind him, leaving the Russian all alone downstairs once again. Ivan sighed and looked down at the ribbon again, crushing it in his hand and throwing it into the waste basket.

"He lied to me again… Don't worry, Liet, I'll make sure you live. It's everyone else whom you should be concerned." Ivan slowly began to walk upstairs and to the end of the hallway to the door with pale blue light coming out from the bottom. He slowly placed his hand on the door knob and turned it, looking in to the sleeping figure on the bed. "Oh, Eduard…"


	3. Chapter 3

Toris sat in the floor, his legs curled up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. He had been sitting this way for at least two hours, rocking back and forth, his eyes closed tightly. He could feel his head spinning, no matter how many cups of water he drank. What if he really did have radiation poisoning? The Lithuanian started to fear for the worse, burying his head into his arms and rocking faster. The spots that had been drifting in and out of his vision were gone now, but he still felt his skin tingling.

"I'm poisoned… I know I am… I'm…" He scraped his nails over his bare arms, wrapped only in a towel, his hair still sopping wet. Toris had taken at least seven showers, though the tingling and stinging had gotten worse with each. He had given up now, slumping over beside the sink, his back pressed up against the tile of the wall. The bathroom was fairly small, though the lights illuminated the room well, causing a bright reflection off of each individual tile.

Toris' mind ran through each scattered thought quickly, his eyes shooting open to stare blankly in terror at the wall in front of him. He was muttering to himself, though he had no idea what he was saying.

A soft knock came at the door once, then again when Toris did not answer. This jarred him out of his trance. He crawled over to the door, stood shakily, and opened the door a crack to look outside. Raivis stood in front of the door, trembling. "Wh… What's the matter, Raivis?" The smaller boy looked up at him shakily, tears forming at the sides of his eyes.

"E-Eduard is missing… I haven't seen him in hours… A-and I don't know what to do! Usually he comes to check on me, b-but he hasn't been around the house in a while… H-he's not in his room either… I checked." Toris' expression turned into even more of a panic.

"Give me a second, I'll be right out."

Ivan sat in a dark room, his chair sitting against the wall. He was twiddling his thumbs together and picking at the hems of his coat. The Russian had left earlier and was now sitting in a shed deep in the woods behind his house. It was hardly small enough to call a shed, but he used it to store his weapons and gardening equipment. The walls were made of thin, plain wood, the windows loosely placed, the ceiling leaking. However, this was only in this room. The other parts of the shed were in great condition, constantly kept up.

"You're being weak, Eduard." Ivan kept his eyes downcast, staring at a half-empty bottle of vodka. "Usually, you fight back. Now you're being frail and innocent." He blinked and looked up through the window, watching a limb bend with snow and snap. "I didn't want to do this, but you know Toris. He never means to hurt anyone, though he has been lying a lot recently." The air started to get heavier, the room silent with the sound of labored breathing in the background. Ivan reached up with the back of his sleeve and wiped away a smudge on his face, staring at the mark left on the light tan fabric. He had changed into his outside clothes before he left, his long military coat draping itself over the seat of the chair and dangling closely to the ground.

"Eduard? Why aren't you talking? You're acting childish." Ivan took another swig from his vodka bottle and set it to the side. The light was shining in through the dirty window, making orange-brown patterns on the back wall. Small pieces of lint and hairs floated freely in the light coming in, disappearing out of sight once they escaped the light. "You never talk anymore, Eduard. Well, you screamed enough before, but now you're silent." He looked over his shoulder to a twisted lump in the corner. "That's okay, though. You won't need your voice for very much longer."

Ivan turned back around and stood, picking up the bottle as he did so. He let out a small chuckle and cracked his back, yawning rather loudly. "It looks like it's getting late. I'll be inside if you need me. Don't hesitate to call my name."

The Russian stepped out of the shed, closing the door tightly behind him and placing a metal pole on the outside latches. He turned and shielded his eyes as the final beams of sunlight began to disappear behind a mountain range in the distance. Ivan let his arm drop down to his side as he let out a large sigh. "The days are starting to get warmer… Maybe I should have one last walk around the forest before the morning comes." With a satisfied grin on his face, he turned and walked into the cold, icy forest.

Toris bolted out of the back door, his hands cupped around his mouth, a small Latvian clinging to his coat. "Eduard! Where are you! Eduard!" He held an extremely worried look on his face, his hands shaking. The last time something like this happened, it was him instead. It had nearly been too late, though Eduard had found him face-down in the snow in the middle of the forest with wounds lining his back and deep bruises covering his body. "We need to find him… Where was the last place you saw him again?"

"I… I saw him in his room napping. Though, when I went to check on him again, he was gone…" Raivis sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands. "That's all I remember…"

"I need you to go wash your face, okay? Calm down, we're going to find him. I won't let anything happen, I promise." Toris planted his hands firmly on the small boy's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. The small blonde nodded, fighting back the urge to start crying again, trembling. "Now go on, I'll take a look in the woods. That's where he usually takes us… Don't worry; I'll be back, okay?"

"Y-yeah… Okay. I'll wait here." The Lithuanian turned and walked towards the woods, stopping by the back corner of the house and brushing a thick layer of snow off of the ground. He bent over and picked up a rusted machete, looking it over before nodding and continuing on his way.

Ivan was nearly a quarter of the way into the forest. He sat on a tree that had fallen during the previous storm and kicked the mud off of his boots. Scratching his head, he stood and stretched. "Just a little further." Turning, he headed towards a thinning of trees, aware of the further he went, the deeper they would get if he kept going in the direction he was previously heading.

A thick layer of mist and snow blew across his path, causing the ground ahead of him to become nearly invisible. The feeling in the air was somewhat calm but also eerie. Narrowing his eyes, he squinted in front of him. There was the figure of another small house in the distance. He blinked and continued on until he reached its front door. It was slightly ajar, but he looked in through one of the broken windows before entering. There was a large sign of struggle, and the old wooden floor looked wetted by some dark liquid. Arching an eyebrow, he stepped through the door and looked around. Nothing too out of the ordinary…

A whispering sound came from behind him. The Russian turned around with wide eyes, seeing a dark figure standing in the corner. "Who's there?"

"—er… ther… ou…" He took a step closer and leaned forward to see who was making the noise, when he stumbled backwards and ran out the door. He ran over the embankment of snow and slid the rest of the way down, rolling once or twice. Ivan didn't stop until he reached another small abandoned house which he barged into. He sat in a back room and peered out the window.

"Oh, no… No, no, no… Not good, not good…" He was breathing heavily as he watched a figure cross over the embankment and head straight for the house. "I need to run…"


	4. Chapter 4

Toris found himself traveling in circles. He was certain that he had been traveling in the right direction once he reached a set of footprints, only to later realize they were far too small to be Ivan's. Sighing, the Lithuanian crouched down and ran his hands through his hair. Where would Ivan have gone if this wasn't the right trail? Toris was lost now, finding one tree looking the same as the previous hundreds. He let out an audible sigh and stood, pulling the machete out of his belt loop and turned towards one of the taller trees. He swung twice, making a large mark in the bark of the tree, then continued on, making another every several hundred feet.

The sun had already gone down about an hour before, and the stars were starting to shine through the tops of the leafless trees on the opposite horizon. Toris walked on, nervously. He hated to be out in the woods at night… Every other sound was amplified. The Lithuanian looked over his shoulder several times, sure he had heard something behind him. Shaking it off, he picked up his pace. It wasn't long before he reached a patch of mist layering the ground. The wind blew harshly, causing a howling sound to creep across the forest.

"I can't see anything… I hope I don't— " Thump. Toris was cut off, running straight into the side of a building. He stumbled back, holding onto his nose. "Ah! How'd that get there…?" Toris stumbled around the house, noticing that the door was left wide open. He arched an eyebrow and walked in, pushing the door farther back. "It's empty… I wonder who was here last."

Walking into the back of the house, he noticed a room that was fairly well-kept. He noticed a blue book lying wide open on the bed. The rest of the room was dark, only one candle burned on the nightstand, the wax dripping onto the floor. Toris stepped over and sat on the bed, picking up the book and looking at it.

Diary,

Brother is on his way. I shall meet him soon.

I know he is alone. He always is after taking care of something.

I'll make sure to get him this time. I promise.

He'll marry me.

He will.

Toris arched an eyebrow and set the book back down after flipping through at least three more pages of nearly the same message on each. He hadn't been paying attention, now aware that it was practically pitch black outside. The sun sat fast this time of year, though the days were becoming longer and longer. Prying the candle off of the table, he used it to find a path back to the door, but from that point on, he would have to walk in the dark. The wind was blowing far too hard for any kind of flame to stay lit. "I guess it's going to be a long night… I have to get back to Raivis, though. I can't just leave him there… I have to find Eduard too. I promised." Pulling the machete out of his belt, he stepped out of the door and into the cold winter winds. He held his jacket close to his body and went on, trying to keep the loose snow from blowing into his eyes.

Ivan hid behind the door of the back room, pressing everything that was moveable up against it. "I… I have to find a way out before she gets here…I don't like this one bit." The Russian stood and looked for a window within view when he heard a loud banging noise coming from the main room of the house. Quickly, he darted to the furthest wall and opened a covered window that hadn't been moved in years. There was a slight squeak as he paused, listening for movement. Soon, he heard a loud scratching against the door and a loud knocking. "No, no, no… I-Ivan is not in here! Go away! There is no one named Ivan here…!" He said, nervously.

"Brother…! I know you're there, let me in. You can't ignore me or escape… We'll get married, brother… Married…" The voice was loud against the opening under the door. After a silence, there was a loud cracking noise, the door splintering in the middle, a large knife protruding through the grains. Ivan jumped, hopped out of the window, and then ran straight through the woods. He was shaking, afraid of what would have happened if his younger (and quite mental) sister had reached him.

Ivan pulled himself over an embankment, not looking back at all, and slid down the other side, using his metal pipe as a walking cane. Once he reached the bottom, he sprinted in another direction, nearly running into a few trees in the process. Wincing once his shoulder was clipped by a large, broken branch, he ran a few more feet and fell to his knees. The Russian could feel his arm begin to sting and swell… He wasn't sure, but he was probably bleeding as well. Shrugging it off, he began to run again, this time stopping once he heard another noise. Eyes widening, he hid behind a snow drift, crouching down. Once he heard the other get close, he leaped out and swung his pipe—

CLANG!

A sharp metallic noise sounded, metal against metal. Ivan's eyes widened once a foot flew up and made contact with his stomach, pushing him down to the ground. He reached up, his scarf blinding him, just in time to block another blow by another kick, grabbing the other's foot and twisting it. He felt the other kick away and land on top of him, sitting. Pulling the scarf from his face, he was just in time to notice who was sitting on him. "Toris!"

The brunette stopped, the machete held high above his head in a stabbing position, his face looking quite angry. Once he noticed it was Ivan, he then too calmed down. "I-Ivan…! I found you!"


	5. Chapter 5

"What are you doing here, Toris? I thought you were at the house, taking care of Raivis." Ivan's eyes held a suspicious look to them, sitting up and sliding out from under the Lithuanian, standing to brush away the thick coat of snow that lined the outside of his overcoat. The brunette stood as well, brushing off his knees, trying to collect his thoughts before he spoke to the Russian. "You shouldn't be out this late at night; it is past your curfew."

"Where is Eduard?" Toris said, his voice stern, his eyes locked on the larger figure in front of him. The Russian only grinned, the sides of his face pulling up slightly, his eyes looking more relaxed now.

"Why is that information important? He should return shortly, so there's not a need to—"

"_Where_ _is Eduard?_" The brunette spoke up, louder than last time, almost angry. His brows were furrowed, his eyes almost piercing. Ivan paused, his smile fading rather quickly.

"Toris, you cut me off. You don't do that when Ivan is talking," said the blonde, now speaking in third-person. "You only speak once Ivan is done, yes?" He took a step forward, staring intently downward at the other.

"I know just what I did and I want to know where Eduard is! You're blowing this off like it's nothing of great importance when you know how much of a big deal this is!" Toris shouted, his fists clenching. Ivan let out a small giggle which then turned into a full laugh, nearly doubling over in hysterics. Once he finally caught his breath, he stood straight once again, his eyes seeming to lock on the smaller man in front of him.

"Yes, yes. Ivan does, Ivan does. Though, it is only a big deal to you, Toris. Little does Toris know, Eduard cares less about you than he does Raivis. Does Toris know this?" The Russian slowly began to walk towards the other, gripping the metal pipe in his hand loosely. Toris stepped back only once, but then stood his ground, his body telling him to run, but his mind telling him to stand up for himself and to not back down. Although this was quite frightening, he knew he had to either tough this out to find his friend, or do nothing at all and risk never finding him again. He froze, however, when he felt the cold metal of the pipe suddenly make contact with the exposed skin underneath his chin, his head tilting up. Ivan held his head there for a moment before shoving the pipe directly into his neck, pushing him backwards and away. The Lithuanian stumbled backwards but held his position. "Toris is very brave today, yes?"

"_Tell me!_ I don't have time for games!" Toris flung his arm, swinging the machete into the pipe, knocking it out of the Russian's hand and into the snow bank beside them. "I'm not afraid of you right now because my friend is in danger because of you!"

There was a long pause, Ivan's eyes focused on the spot where his pipe went through the snow and where it slid across the ground. For a moment, he seemed rather distant; his gaze starting to drift into the air as he slowly lifted his head. Toris started to feel his stomach drop, his eyes widening. Ivan only ever got like this when something bad was about to happen… His best bet was to run, though he didn't want to run from his fears, he wanted to stand up to them, to fight for his friend. Ivan's eyes slowly turned to focus on Toris, his head soon following. The Russian's eyes were widened in what seemed to be a fit of rage, a smile beginning to grow on his face. The brunette stepped back, shaking. Ivan had only taken two long strides and had already reached him. The Lithuanian froze in fear, though he suddenly found the strength to free himself, turning to run away. He only took three running steps before he felt the hair on the back of his head nearly get yanked out, all the energy draining out of his legs, causing him to collapse. Letting out a loud yelp, he felt his courage crumbling; a large shadow was now looming over him, holding him up in the air by his hair. He then felt Ivan come close to his ear, then pause. "I'll give you a three minute head start, yes? Run."

Ivan threw Toris forward, watching the figure roll across the ground. The brunette quickly stood up and scrambled to run away, disappearing over another snow embankment. The Russian grinned manically; the fun was about to begin.

Ivan took long, quick strides over the pale snow, his facial expression becoming that of a crazed murderer; his mouth was curved into a lop-sided grin, eyes widened and focused on the air in front of him, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. The pipe in his hand swung back and forth with his long strides, connecting with low branches in his way to move them aside. Though, at one point, however, he swung as something small and dark crossed his path, being able to hear a sharp animal-like squeal. This only made him grin further, pause, then go back to look for it. Upon further inspection, he realized it was a small rabbit. Kneeling down, he picked up the limp frame with one hand and looked it over under the now-clear moonlight. It was brown, patches of white spotting the paws and chest. Ivan grinned and cradled it in his arms, petting the rabbit's head softly, looking down with his same expression, though now it was somewhat softer.

A few moments went on as he sat and pet the small animal, then he remembered his reason for tracking through the forest in the first place. Pausing, he stared down at the rabbit and watched it breathe hesitantly. The animal was surely near death with the swing of the pipe it had endured earlier. With a closer look, the Russian noticed a spot of blood on his glove. There was a small pool forming in his other hand from the side of the animal's head. His eyes grew wide, a small shock forming, his grip on the animal's head loosening. He had only now realized what he had done and was now panicking… So this is why he wasn't allowed to keep small animals. He was never aware of how strong his grasp was… Then, he realized he had been thinking about the Lithuanian while petting the rabbit. Maybe he—

A loud crack sounded behind him, causing him to stand up, his eyes wandering across the pitch-black night. He swore he saw a figure behind a tree in the distance… However, it wasn't the one he had wanted to see. Softly, he laid the now limp rabbit on the ground, dug a hole, and placed it in the cold, icy tomb. Ivan then stood and raked the snow in with his foot, picked up the pipe, and began sprinting in the other direction. Before he knew it, he found himself within a clearing, light from a window cast out onto the ground, highlighting the snow a dirty yellow color… He grinned, a look of realization appearing on his face. He was home—and so was Raivis.


	6. Chapter 6

Toris struggled to stay awake, his feet nearly bleeding from the blisters forming on his feet from the damp socks he had been wearing. The snow had seeped in during the little incident in the woods, but now he was resting against a tree, his chest heaving greatly. His eyes were half-lidded, focused on nothing in particular, the trees before him becoming blurry lines. A few moments passed as he tried his best to catch his breath, his ribs burning from the lack of oxygen. The moon had been nearly directly above him when he stopped to rest… The clock had probably already stuck midnight in the long hallways back in Ivan's house. Toris winced, feeling an internal organ constrict. He had been running non-stop for nearly two hours, and now he was starting to feel it.

The pain had started to get worse only a few moments later, nearly to the point of tears. His eyes began to tear up, a small yelp of pain escaping him, his hands placed tightly over his side as he fell to the other side into the snow beside the tree. He couldn't explain the pain, but he could feel it good enough to know it might have not been 'just a cramp' as Eduard would have put it. _Eduard… _He hadn't found him yet. Toris' eyes shot open as he had the realization that he was still nowhere near finding him. He clawed at the ground in order to find a way to stand, then held onto the trees in his path, stumbling weakly towards the direction he was sure Ivan was heading.

However, once he made it to the next hill, he found his vision becoming far more blurry, trees beginning to split into two images and spin. He looked down, now sure that his feet were bleeding; small rims of red lining his footprints in the snow. Looking down probably wasn't the best idea, seeing as he began to fall forward. He was too weak to catch himself, so he let himself fall. On his way down, he managed to catch a glimpse of something standing in front of him… A woman in a dark dress. However, he saw nothing of her face except for a pair of dark, menacing eyes, and the glint of a knife.

Ivan crept along the side of the house, staring down at the now snow-covered footprints that lead out of the back yard and into the woods, making note that the wind must have been strong or blowing for a fair amount of time for the footprints that were fairly deep to have been half covered in snow. However, it didn't quite make sense to him as to why Toris took the machete… Sure it would have been useful to use in case of such things that had happened earlier, but now that he thought about it, even with the large blade, he wouldn't have been able to inflict that much damage on anyone else. He was actually quite lucky that the Russian had been blinded by his scarf in those few quick seconds. Though, the way the Lithuanian had swung the blade was quite amusing; somewhat like that of a madman, though it seemed slightly hesitant, as it should be. Although, towards the end of the fight, the way he was holding the base of the blade had confused him. It was almost as though he had expected to be slain, though wanted to push on throughout the last battle.

The Russian grinned slightly, stopping in front of the door and leaning against the pillar that held up the slight overhang on the roof, placing the pipe against the wall of the house that stood beside him. Ivan breathed into his hands and rubbed them together, able to see his hot breath escape through the small grooves between his fingers, swirls forming in the air underneath the pale-orange porch light that shone dully over the wooden planks of the porch and spread to the sides which were covered in a thick layer of moonlit snow. He adjusted his scarf, pulling one end that hung straight down back over his shoulder, and brushed at the bottom of his overcoat where small specks of dirt and mud littered the lining. Looking up, he peeked in through the oval glass that set in the door as somewhat of a small window, seeing that the lights inside the house were indeed still on… Of course they would be, it was Toris' job to get the house ready for nightfall—though he wasn't there tonight.

Ivan turned the knob of the door with a harsh twist of his wrist (it would tend to stick fairly often) and leaned on the door, pushing it open with a loud squeak from the hinges. The house was silent, a faint sound of a record scratching on its last note was heard in the other room, the phonograph's lid open and the arm sliding back and forth on the slick surface. The blonde walked over and picked the bouncing arm up, set it back into place on the holder, and silently closed the lid. His steps were loud, the floorboards creaking, and a deep thump from his boots floated through the rooms of the lower part of the house. He made his way to the stairs and stopped just in front of them, looking down and to the side to see the picture on the table now lying flat, face down. Gently, he reached over and set the picture back up, seeing that now the smeared mark on the glass was almost covered again. Using the side of his glove, he lightly wiped away the dust and smiled weakly, then turned back to the stairs and proceeded to walk up, dragging his hand along the wooden bars placed evenly along to provide sturdiness in the railing.

As he reached the top stair, he looked down the hallway, noticing that none of the lights had been left on, only a faint blue glow shining out from under Eduard's door, his computers had been left on. Ivan strode heavily but slowly down the hallway, stopping at Raivis' door and leaning in to listen, placing his ear lightly against the wooden door. He heard nothing, not a sound. Arching his eyebrow, he softly turned the knob and peeked in. Nothing. The bed wasn't made, nor were the lights or small radio turned on. Now, Ivan was confused. Usually, the small boy was hiding away in his room or in the living room reading. Blinking, he scratched his head and let out a childish sigh, his voice seeming nearly higher than usual. "Ah, I wonder where little Raivis could be? I was wanting to give him something… Something Toris nor Eduard would like."

A pause. Still nothing. He let out a small laugh, then proceeded to walk out of the room and check all of the others, seeing nothing in any of them. Ivan practically skipped up the next set of stairs and ended up in the third-story hallway. This part of the house was hardly ever used after what had happened a few years prior, and because of that, Ivan desperately avoided this part of the house. He checked all the rooms once again, and began to head back down the stairs, only then realizing there was one room left on the third floor. Blinking, he stood back up and headed to the door at the end of the hallway, the door that never truly stayed shut… Ivan lightly pushed the door open and peered inside, his eyes widening. A small figure was lying on the cot face down, his arm hanging limply over the edge of the fabric-coated metal frame, a book lying wide open on the ground some inches away, and lying in the book was a strip of fabric—the match to the previous one Toris had brought down that morning. It had been damp, as if to wipe away tears. If Ivan's hypothesis was correct, things did not look good.


End file.
